Chapter 24 - Resistance
Xyron materialised in the lab and moved nearer Tymoros. He made his own appraisal, and went to his control panels and activated several switches. Now his instruments and equipment began to power up again on the back up system. The force wall generator stayed on, still drawing its power from the main supply. Once the equipment was again operational, he checked Kryslie again. After that, he remotely adjusted the parameters of the wall.
The next time Kryslie hit the wall, light flashed from within the shield. She hit it again and again, still full of anger, but the intensity of the light was duller each time.
Xyron transferred the lighting system to the back up power supply and only when the lights came back on did Kryslie realise they were there. Her expression was a feral snarl and her anger turned on them for preventing her from going after the escaping intruder.
Yet, deep inside her, Kryslie maintained a thread of control. She knew that Xyron and Tymoros were not her enemies, knew that they could help her. Something told her mind they could help her find that intruder. So she stood still, as Xyron expanded the force wall back behind his bank of equipment. She did not bow as he walked nearer to her. Such politeness had no meaning with her mind on a more urgent problem.
“I would like to help you, Kryslie,” Xyron spoke calmly. Any concerns that he had about her behaviour were completely controlled, completely hidden behind a strong mind shield of his own. He went to the couch Tymoros had left at sitting height and patted it.
“Come and sit here,” he invited. “I will show you how to reduce the power buzzing in you so that you can focus better. Surely it is distracting your concentration?”
After a moment, Kryslie began to move to the bed. A voice in her mind was telling her he was right. That she needed to reduce her power. Then she remembered that she had tried that and been tricked. Without realising it, she began backing away and shaking her head.
Xyron gave no sign that her backwards movement was a bad sign. Instead, he began to exert a subtle compulsion on her, using his own power - beginning at a very low level and increasing the intensity in minute increments. He had to careful not to arouse her suspicions, which would likely result in a powerful block and fierce resistance. To seem less authoritarian, he turned his head so he was looking to one side of her, as if he feared no danger from her. He began to speak calmly and soothingly.
“Your help has been very useful. We have captured and disempowered ten intruders and of course one of them died, so eleven in all.”
“One got away!” Kryslie yelled.
Xyron nodded, not hiding the fact. “Yes, down through the caverns. Reslic send a squad after him. That one left a group of mutants stumbling around after him – lost in the dark. We have collected all those and all the mutants we had as guests are back in their rooms in the isolation building.”
“They weren’t the dangerous ones,” Kryslie shouted. “That intruder you let get away – he was the dangerous one. He was the leader.”
“Yes,” Xyron agreed. “He left his men and ran. That is why we need you to power down to a level where you can help us again.” Once again, he patted the couch and Kryslie moved forward, no more aware of doing that than she had been of backing away. Xyron did not try to hurry her for he sensed the fragile thread of control. It would take only the faintest suspicion of threat and she would turn against him.
Her power had reduced as she hit the wall, once Xyron had adjusted the settings to leech energy from her, but her power level was rising again and she had no reason or need to use it now – no outlet to relieve the pressure.
He could quench the power for her and return it to a manageable level – but it would require physical contact – and it was easier with cooperation.
Kryslie was almost in Xyron’s reach, when he turned to meet her eyes. He saw a spurt of fear there and she stopped moving forward. Then, very slowly, he reached out and gripped Kryslie by the shoulders and she became a twisting, struggling, writhing creature, trying to get free.
It had been the eyes, and the sense of power in them that confused her. Kryslie saw the power in the eyes, and knew the mind behind them wanted to control her. The face of the leader of the intruders, who wanted her dead, superimposed itself over the face of the man she trusted. Black eyes, grey eyes, the power seemed so similar now. Then Xyron touched her, and she felt caught, felt the intruder had her again.
The intense need for an outlet for her power overcame her control. She fought to get free.
Xyron felt the backlash of her power, and dropped his hands as if they had been burnt. For a moment, he was unable to act, while he used his power to heal his hands. He knew Kryslie was backing away, expecting him to come after her, but she would not get out of the lab. She was stumbling backwards, unsteady on her feet and shaking her head.
“No, stay away from me. Stay away!” Kryslie turned her head to include Tymoros in her demand. “I don’t want to hurt you.” Her words came out like a plea, and her eyes now seemed unfocussed. As Xyron moved forward again, speaking reassuring words, Kryslie began backing away again. She backed up to the lab wall, glanced at where she was and began to inch towards the door. When she reached for the opening mechanism, her hand touched the force wall. She was jolted, and once again, light flashed from the point of contact.
Xyron reached her as she stumbled forward, prepared this time for the level of backlash. He was less prepared for the strength of the mind that tired to overpower his.
“Kryslie!” a sharp voice boomed in the small space. Jono Reslic had transmitted in and had instantly understood the situation.
The full authority of his position as President Governor, bearer of the Sword of Judgement, broke Kryslie’s concentration on trying to control Xyron. Instinct made her turn, trained obedience made her listen and when she faced Reslic, she began to tremble and shake. Conflicting thoughts, emotions and needs battled within her. She tried to make sense of them, to regain control, to know what she was meant to be doing. Her hands moved to her head, and pressed forcefully onto her temples, trying to block out all sensations, all thoughts.
Tymoros moved to her, thinking only of his concern for her and his desire to protect her. Kryslie didn’t react to him, but neither was there a backlash, when he gently pulled her to him, and Xyron released her.
“Kryslie, daughter, we can help you,” he whispered softly, his lips nearly touching her hair. He felt her standing rigidly, and knew she was controlling herself with every thing she had. “Do you know what is happening?”
He heard the faintest of whispers. “Father, I am frightened. I can’t seem to control myself. I even want to fight you. Can you help me? Please? I can’t hold on much longer.”
Tymoros heard the desperation in her voice. “Yes, we can help you. You need to look at Jono. He can help you manage the power you have taken into you.”
In the very back of his mind, Tymoros knew that Xyron had taken as much of the back flow that he could tolerate. He was in a precarious position himself if Kryslie should lose control. He was unshielded, and her power was extremely strong.
Kryslie turned towards Reslic, she saw his intent gaze, felt his mind trying to dominate hers, her body jerked as she instinctively locked her will against his. Tymoros was aware of the resistance and knew it was caused by confusion and the mistaken sense of danger. Yet she was still aware of him and had not blasted him with the power surging in her. He thought at Kryslie, “He knows how to help you.”
He vaguely sensed that she was afraid – terrified of Reslic – as if he was very angry with her.
For a moment, Reslic turned away, gestured to Xyron to raise a couch to waist height. He took the Sword of Judgement from the scabbard at his back and laid it flat on the couch. Then he turned and moved slowly to Kryslie.
Tymoros was talking quietly to Kryslie, keeping his voice low so that she had to listen hard and concentrate to hear him. “Jono is not angry with you. You helped us find the intruders, helpe
d us keep the estate safe.”
She was still rigid in his arms. “And truly, it was unexpected that you would be able to make such judicious use of your power – so young. It must truly have been the will of the Guardians because the danger was extreme. We knew the mutants had escaped, and they were a grave threat but not enough to warrant the raising of your power. Your actions alerted us to the presence of the intruders. They attempted to take Llaimos, but failed. All the intruders are gone or imprisoned now, you do not need all that power now, let Jono ease you of your burden – help you to relax.”
Very gently, Tymoros moved Kryslie towards Reslic, who took her arms as Xyron had. Tymoros moved back. There was no backlash yet. The fear had gone, as Reslic had believed. Without him being in contact with the Sword of Judgement, she would not be sensing the implacable will of the Guardians of Peace, beings who deplored weakness in beings they had given their power to.
Yet as soon as he tried to reach her mind, Kryslie blocked him and tried to struggle free. She was weaker now, and Reslic held her easily. Tymoros kept talking softly, and returned to place his hands on her shoulders, in a gesture of support.
“Do not fight Jono, he is trying to help you. You are safe. It is time for you to relax.”
But she couldn’t, her body was still rigid with tension, her mind still resisting. Tymoros continued patiently, “He is not trying to control you, Kryslie. He is simply trying to take over the burden of trying to control the excess energy in you. Trust me. Trust him.”
Another voice, deep in her mind, urged her, “Trust him, Krys. You need his help – this time.”
It was that voice of her brother, her twin, that finally reached her inner mind and calmed her. Outwardly, she nodded, shook herself free of Tymoros, though not out of Reslic’s grip. He was holding her, but that was all. She pulled herself together, straightened her stance until she was standing correctly for facing one of the Governors, but she was looking down, taking visible deep breaths to calm herself.
Then she looked up, met the frighteningly intense blue eyes, and placed herself at their mercy – forcing herself not to resist. But in spite of that, she was tense.
The terrifying agony seemed to last for hours, taking the blinding headache and spreading it throughout her body and at first, intensifying it. Then slowly, the agony eased.
When she could once again think, Kryslie found herself on the floor, as weak and limp as a pile of delicate lace cloth and with tears streaming down her face. She had no resistance left, no energy at all, and felt as insubstantial as a wraith. There was silence in her mind, the intolerable buzzing had gone, and it was relief to have no mental noise – nothing to think on.
Reslic lifted her from the floor, sat her on the bed and supported her. He studied her face and saw some intelligence returning to her expression. She wasn’t reacting to him, so she wasn’t remembering yet. Her attention was on the Sword, where it lay, just beside her. He glanced at it and saw it was glowing with a light of its own. The multicoloured gems were scintillating. He had never seen that happening before. When he saw Kryslie reaching out to touch it, he stilled the instinctive reaction to tell her, “No.” He felt the power of the Guardians. He watched as Kryslie’s fingers just touched the surface of the blade. Her body jerked slightly.
“Kryslie?” Tymoros came and took her free hand. “How are you?”
Kryslie just shook her head. She didn’t want to talk, didn’t want to look at any of the Governors. When she had touched the Sword, she had felt the implacable power that she had earlier sensed in Reslic. While they had restored some energy to her, one word had filled her head, “REMEMBER.”
It was impossible to forget, Reslic had made her see what she was becoming and it had horrified her. Then he had not simply controlled her power, he had blocked it from her and drained it completely. The shock of that action had been like a dousing with frigid water. It had been necessary, because even though she had accepted the need, her mind had been stuck in angry mode and she had tried to fight him. She had resented him and wanted to have revenge on him. Now she knew why he had acted as he had, why such strong measures had been needed. She wanted to be sick. She felt she had been a hairs breadth from turning rogue, from having her power destroy her.
The echo of that ‘remember’ was also the memory of the disempowered intruders…and it might have been her. She hadn’t wanted to be like those others, the intruders and their leader. At least now, she knew how to ground the excess power for herself.
Kryslie began to shake, and Tymoros came and held her, whilst Xyron, now recovered from the backlash effects, prepared a drink.
“I’m sorry,” Kryslie said very softly.
“Hush, young one. All is well now,” Tymoros assured her. He took the cup of drink from Xyron and helped Kryslie to drink. He knew this reaction – it was shock and he waited for the tremors to ease and the sedative to take effect.
Kryslie woke many hours later, feeling tired and weak. The familiar things in her own bedroom reassured her. The light filtering through the still opaque window panel told her that it was well after dawn. Vivid memories returned to haunt her and she knew she would not be able to sleep further.
Glancing at the shelf where she kept her transmitter and monitor, she saw only her monitor. That meant she was to wait in her apartment until someone came for her. She sighed, resigned, but was also glad, since she really didn’t have the energy to get up and dressed. Lying in bed was a luxury she usually did not have time for.
Delia woke her from a light doze.
“Wake up Mistress; you have slept in long enough. You will want to be dressed when your father summons you.”
“I’m too tired,” Kryslie protested.
“Nonsense,” Delia told her unsympathetically. “A warm sonic shower will wake you up and I have your breakfast.”
Delia’s gentle bullying kept Kryslie from thinking on the ‘talk’ she was sure to get from her father.
Aldiv brought Kryslie to the High King’s sanctum, and tactfully withdrew. Tymoros was sitting on a two-person sofa near a low table. He gestured for Kryslie to sit beside him. She walked there, hesitantly and sat on the front edge of the cushion seat.
Tymoros leant forward and took a glass of the pale green restorative drink from the table and gave it to Kryslie.
“This will help restore your strength.”
Kryslie recognised the drink but sipped it tentatively, wanting to delay thinking or talking about the previous day. She felt her strength returning. Finally, Tymoros spoke.
“There is no reason why you cannot return to your lessons. Tymos and your friends, including Jono’s young hothead, are already at work.”
“Father, I’m afraid,” Kryslie finally admitted. “I nearly betrayed your trust in me.”
Tymoros drew Kryslie closer with a gentle embrace. “You were a long way from being rogue. Had you been, then touching the Sword of Judgement would have confirmed it. They did not remove your power, but they spoke to you, didn’t they?”
Kryslie shivered at the memory. “Yes, they said ‘remember’.”
“Then remember this. Your problem was simple – you summoned more power than you knew how to handle. You are still young and inexperienced. It was not too much for us to manage. Do you remember how to ground out excess energy?”
“Yes, His Excellency showed me. I thought I knew how, but it is not like Tymos described.” Kryslie did not want to think about that mind-to-mind lesson.
“Jono will see you and Tymos this evening, there are some mind techniques that we should teach you sooner rather than later.” Tymoros advised her.
“Did his Excellency ground out the power from the intruders?”
Tymoros shook his head. “They were judged by the Guardians of Peace. And they were all disempowered.”
Kryslie went still, remembering the sense she had had of those powerful beings. Tymoros interrupted her reflections.
“I am grateful that you and your brother res
ponded so well in the emergency. The warning you gave the guard was in time to alert the estate. Because of that, Llaimos and the other children were not endangered.”
“Father, I never even sensed…” Kryslie said, aghast. “I should have sensed he was in danger.”
“Llaimos, as it happened, was never in danger. He was with Tanya in the solarium. The intruders were stopped before they reached the nursery. They did not expect our women to be so fierce.”
Tymoros was thoughtful, thinking of the link between his elder children, which he expected would spread to his younger son. He decided to ponder that later. He picked up Kryslie’s transmitter from the table and handed it to her.
“Do you know where those intruders were from?” Kryslie asked.
“Not yet. They are still in shock from being disempowered.”
Kryslie nodded. She was suddenly anxious to get back to work – to have a reason not to think on how she had felt last night.